God be with you."
"If I fail kurnel, it will be because I'm dead, sir."
Shortly before three o'clock in the morning, Denny made ready for his
perilous ride. The horse's hoofs were carefully padded, ammunition and
revolver looked after, the pocket instrument fastened around his neck by
the wire, so if any accident happened to the horse he would not be
unnecessarily delayed, and all was ready. He gave his old bunkie a
farewell silent clasp of the hand and then started on his ride that
meant life or death to his comrades. The horse was a magnificent
Kentuckian and seemed to know what was required of him. Carefully and
slowly Hogan pushed his way to the place opposite the ravine, and then
giving his mount a light touch with the spurs, he took to the cold
water. The stream was filled with floating ice but was only about fifty
yards wide and in a few minutes he was safely over, and climbing up the
other bank through the ravine. Finally, the end was reached and he was
on high ground. Resting a minute to see if all was well, he started. So
far, so good, he was beyond the Indian lines.
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